Sense
by Ryo0oki
Summary: Someone sees a confrontation between Hiro and Yuki. Major angst warnings. [DISCONTINUED]
1. Hear

Warnings: Angst.  And lots of it. 

Disclaimer: I don't own Gravitation.  In fact, Gravitation is one of the few animes I wouldn't care about owning, because they already do everything I like in the show. =^_^=  Or the manga. 

Sense

Pt. 1: Hear

There is the sound of an argument coming from upstairs.  I frown and pause in my knitting to listen.  It isn't often that something interesting ever occurs, and when it does, I could surely take some time away from my monotonous life to eavesdrop a bit. 

"-say it!!" 

A young voice, filled with anger and annoyance.  It is a little high pitched, but obviously a boy.  I can almost envision him- short, taller than me, but short in the terms of the world… hair cut so that it fell around his face… it would be dyed of course, as is the 'rage'- blue or green or pink.  Wide innocent eyes, but accusing for the circumstances…

"I don't know why it's such a big deal!" 

Ah!  The second voice… softer and harsher at the same time.  Although the volume clearly indicates he is yelling, his tone was that of one whispering death threats.  Poison fills his words and I shuddered just hearing them.  What kind of person… the immediate image that came to mind is a wizened crone that had lived his life in solitude, away from the prying eyes of society.  But there is a seductive quality to it as well and pitch says that he can't be older than twenty-five…

"Well of course you wouldn't understand!" 

"Why don't you enlighten me?" 

The second voice still carries that frosty attitude, but the first is almost trembling.  With a start, I realize I am hearing a lover's quarrel.  I chuckle slightly.  Kids these days. 

"What's the point?  It doesn't matter anyways!!  I know you think I'll always come back no matter _what_ you do, so you don't listen at all!"  Yes, he's trembling.  I can almost see tears clouding his eyes. 

"But you _do_ always come back." 

A muffled sob. 

The second voice, infinitely more gentle.  "Don't- don't cry like that…"

There is a thump, as if one of the bodies has collapsed.  I think I can guess which one. 

Words come again and this time I have to strain to hear them.  

"Yes," the first voice says bitterly.  "No matter what you do, I'll never leave.  No matter how badly you treat me, no matter what you say, I can't leave.  Do you know _why_?!  Because I love you!!  I love you with all my heart and sometimes it hurts so bad that I wish I didn't.  Sometimes I think about you and I just _die_ because I know you'll never love me the same way- that despite all my efforts all I am to you is an annoyance and a distraction- a good one at times –but a distraction nonetheless.  You even _lie_ to me about how you feel, but you don't have to, you know that-"

"Stop."  Commanding and fearful at the same time.  Like a young child knowing he's about to stumple upon something big but helpless to prevent it. 

"I love you more than life itself… I would die if you asked me to…"

"Stop!" 

He is crying now and there is a sharp pang in my heart.  "You fool," I whisper, knowing that no one can hear me.  "You foolish boy… look what he has given you and look…"

"I can't do this now, Shuuichi.  I'm sorry." 

I hear a door open and close.  The soft click of the lock seems to be the cue for 'Shuuichi' to let it all go and sob his heart out into floor. 

I feel a strange ache in my chest.  I pity the boy, I pity his cold lover who left him there, and I hate whatever the world gave to his lover to make him withdraw like that.  My hands are shaking and I try to compose myself… silly really, to get all upset over two people I didn't even know.  

Upstairs, I hear the sobs turn into whimpers, and then silence.  I hear Shuuichi dialing on the phone and I hear him say in a shuddering voice, 

"Hi-Hiro…?  Can I come over for a while?" 

I am sure his friend's answer is yes because he sniffles an 'OK.'

I sigh and wish him the best, then return to my knitting for the drama is over for now at least. 

-Fin-

What do you think?  I had a few extra parts planned, but if you don't mind it as a standalone, I'll leave it as such.  Please review!! =^_^=  I will love you forever. 

-ryo0oki

"God I hate 56k modems…"


	2. See

Okay, well since the general consensus is that I _should_ have more parts, I will. =^_~=  Again through the eyes of another.

Warnings: Angst, stuff.

Disclaimer: I don't own Gravitation.

Sense

Part 2: See

I sit on the soft grass, clutching my favorite doll in one hand and tearing up the turf with the other.  It is late, probably midnight, but I don't want to go home quite yet.  I wonder if Mother is worried or if she is too busy dealing with Father.

I look up for a moment, staring blankly at a streetlight.  It casts its soft glow upon the concrete, barely illuminating the cracks and dents.  Shadows creep from all sides, pressing in the light like monsters from a horror movie.  I am about to resume my half-asleep trance when a man steps into the spotlight.

The first thing I notice about him is that he is pretty.  That in itself is not a surprise, men have become prettier and prettier since… well, since some point.  But he is pretty in a masculine way, so unlike the majority of the male J-pop singers that my best friend idolizes, with their long dyed hair and skimpy, feminine clothes.  He has short blond hair, yellow as a buttercup.  For a moment, I consider if _it_ could be dyed and then shake my head.

Because the second thing I notice is that he is sad.  Not sad because of one incident, but sad for the entirety of his life, or something close to it.  Someone like that would not bother with the maintenance required to dye his hair and make it shine like it does.  He wears a long dark trench coat and the shadows seem to embrace him and empathize his gloom.

He sags against the pole, fishing around in his pockets for something.  Apparently he doesn't find it because he sighs and slumps to the ground, one hand covering his eyes.  It is a forlorn, defeated posture and it seems very wrong.

There is a small sound off to the right and both he and I start.  I dismiss it as a cat or some street creature almost immediately, but he stands now, warily eyeing his surroundings.  It turns out that his actions were more correct than mine, because another man stalks into the light.

This one I recognize almost immediately, if only for my friend's disturbing obsessions.  He is Nakano Hiroshi.  I am positive, what with his long reddish-brown hair and dark, soulful eyes.  Those eyes are blazing now and he draws back a fist and punches the blond.

The blond stumbles a little, almost catches himself, and then sits down hard.  He wipes what I assume to be blood off his chin but barely has time to regain his senses before Hiro snags his shirt collar.

"Get up you bastard," Hiro snarls.  "So I can hit you again."

"That's certainly an incentive," the blond states, managing to sound sarcastic even in his situation.  I would have been impressed had his eyes not been that of a dead man's, one without hope, or even a will to live.  "Care to tell me what this is about?"

"Take a guess, Yuki!!" Hiro says, hitting the blond again.  Yuki coughs slightly and grins.  His eyes remain dull and lifeless though.

"Of course.  The little pink haired plaything.  Shuuichi."

"You fucking bastard!" Hiro exclaims, lifting Yuki to his feet.  "I told you I'd never forgive you if you made him cry."

Yuki chuckles a bit.  He closes a hand around Hiro's wrist and squeezes it until the guitarist lets go with a small gasp of pain.  I wince in sympathy.  

"And did I?" Yuki asks, a sardonic smile appearing on his face.

Hiro jerks his hand out of the blond's grasp and trembles with suppressed rage.  I am reminded of a time when the police took my father away.  He was shaking, his face livid, obscenities at the tip of his tongue- but I knew he wouldn't say them.  He would wait until he was out of jail, safe from the justice to vent his anger.  Dangerous are those who repress their fury, and even more so are the ones who can only do it for periods of time.

Hiro speaks, which jerks me back to the present.  

"No," he says, fists clenching and unclenching, as if he wants to hit Yuki again but knows the blond will not let him another time.  "He whimpered and sighed and looked sad and pitiful, but he didn't cry.  He doesn't want me to hate you, so he didn't cry."

"Then why," Yuki says coldly, "Why are you here?"

Hiro lets a scream of frustration and annoyance.  "You don't deserve him.  Sit on your high horse for now, but one day he'll realize that it was just a childhood love and walk away forever.  You'll never actually be worthy of him."

I watch Hiro stalk away into the darkness, his long strands of auburn hair being the last to leave the comfort of the light.  The second that the guitarist is obviously gone, Yuki's mask shatters into a million tiny pieces.

His face crumples and he sinks to the ground, curling up in a fetal position.  His hands draw his coat around him, as if preventing the outside world from getting in.  His eyes close and he shudders, biting his lips.

He does not cry.

I press my face up against my doll, not wanting to watch anymore.  I feel tears streaming down my face, getting the stuffed toy wet.  I am not sure how long I stayed like that, but I know I was drifting off to sleep.

Then Yuki's hoarse voice proclaims something obviously not meant for human ears and I blush furiously, feeling embarrassed for myself.

"That much," he says softly, "is true.

-Fin-

Note: I'm not using much Japanese in this fic for a reason- after all, if they're already speaking/thinking in the language, why throw in a kaa-san or teme?

Please review and tell me what you think!!  ::begs::  Onegai?  The more reviews the faster I get the next part up!!! =^_^= 

-ryo0oki

"Don't jump in front of speeding cars."


End file.
